his back, an' a-smilin' an' kissin' her hand, she did
really look right nice."

Minnie's trapeze acts were truly fine, and were appreciated at their
full value; and the beautiful little figure walking the wire twenty feet
above the ground was greeted with unlimited enthusiasm.

When the evening came, old Frosty, inclined to be as nervous and
irritable with Gilbert as he dared, came running into the latter's place
worrying about the fireworks.

"Now you chase yourself along," advised the sheriff, good-naturedly.
"Just get right along, an' 'tend to your little old illuminated
knife-throwin' trick. 'Tain't ten minutes till that's due, an' you've
got a crowd that's good for five hundred dollars if it's good for a
cent, when you pass the hat. And," he added, delight in the scheme he
was working getting the better of his natural instinct for literal
truth, "and luck--just fool luck--has sent you the finest fireworks
operator in West Texas. Shoo out of here now, an' 'tend to your own job,
an' let me 'tend to mine!"

As for the children of the Wagon-Tire House, they were perhaps more
glorious on that warm, dark July night than anything in their after
lives could make them. This is not to say that the six were not destined
for happy or distinguished careers; but, after all, the magnificence of
an occasion depends greatly upon the point of view; and the small hill
is a high mountain to the little child.

They had been permitted to extend invitations to the more favored of
their young friends. Bunt Tarver and Roach Porterman's two small girls,
with Eddie Beach, who lived on a ranch outside of Blowout and stayed all
night at the Wagon-Tire House (in a state of bliss that was almost
cataleptic), were among the little bunch that presented themselves to go
upon the roof of the kitchen, from which a magnificent view of the
fireworks was to be had.

"I can't have it," Troy announced. "I can't have you children up here."

"Oh, yes, Gib--oh, yes, you can. They won't--" Aunt Huldah's voice sank
to a murmur, which Troy Gilbert answered with a shake of the head.

"Well, ef they do see anything, they'll keep still--my chil'en are
trained to mind; and these others are all good people;" and Aunt Huldah
beamed upon the palpitating, expectant, alarmed little band.

"Keep still!"--what an awful phrase for such a connection! Gilbert
turned and asked them kindly, "Will you, kids? Will you keep right
still, whatever you see?"

Only Gess